Join Me in Snarkville

Yesterday was a tough day. Seriously, you’d think it would have gone up after the toothbrush incident, but I have to say that yesterday was tough. When Prince got home, we had a moment in the hallway reminding me that this really was the best idea and I can and will have better days.

This morning Duke bounds out of bed declaring that today will be a better day. Ah, yes, it will be, after all this is Waffle Wednesday.

But back to yesterday. One of the things that we had to do was food shopping. Seriously we were down to two cans of black olives, frozen gravy (with nothing for it to go on), and three boxes of mac and cheese. We couldn’t just see the back of the freezer, I was able to wipe it out without having to pull anything out of the fridge first. So, off to the store we went.

Now, I’m a hugely mean mommy who NEVER allows her child those extra long car carts. Mostly because I can not steer them through the aisles and I prefer to be able to reach out and grab my child if needed. So, I always avoid those horrible cars/carts.

This brings me to the encounter in the bread aisle. All I wanted was sandwich bread, but there was a family with a car cart in my way. Now, the part that baffled me was that there was NO child in the car portion. Oh, sure there was an infant seat on the top of the cart (no baby though, the baby was being carried by the third adult in this group). There was no toddler in sight. To top this whole thing off there were two items in their cart.

Best I can figure three adults took one infant to the grocery store for two items (one of which was bread) and picked out the largest cart known to man, gave it to the husband to drive (who for the record can not drive) and then proceeded to have a mental lapse when faced with getting out of the way of a lovely mommy and her son. So, you get the picture.

I’m waiting (and silently thinking “how stupid can you be?”) when my darling, oh-so-well-behaved son looks at these people trying to move the cart through the too narrow aisle and says at near top of his lungs, “Mama, I need to tell them that cart is BROKEN. See it doesn’t work.” (Sidenote: if I can’t avoid him seeing the car-carts, I tell him they are broken or convince him that carrying a basket is better.) The adult not driving and not holding the infant who isn’t in his/her infant seat, looks at us and then at the driver and says, “Kid’s got a point; maybe this one IS broken, you’ve not been able to push it since we’ve gotten here.”

Yes, I snorted.

(Thanks for the compliments on the new design.)